


Blood Drive

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Wax Verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Assault, Blood Drinking, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the night Kurt gets turned into a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place somewhere between "Grilled Cheesus" and "Duets," canon-wise.
> 
> (This series is written out of order. If you'd like a chronological list, I'm on tumblr under the same name, and have a masterpost for this verse which notes the story order!)

Burt yawned from his perch on the living room couch, head resting on his hand as he drowsily tried to watch the tenth episode of the _Ice Road Truckers_ marathon playing in front of him. It was nearing midnight, and he was that sort of sleepy that results from consistent inactivity. He hadn’t done nearly enough that day, in his opinion, stuck on the couch with his teenaged son puttering around him to ensure he didn’t lift a finger.  
  
"Dad, go to sleep. You need your rest," Kurt said from the kitchen, where he had his hands submerged in a bowl of raw, ground sirloin. He needed to get the meat marinating for the next day, and he’d meant to do it as soon as he got home, but he was running behind on all his usual preparations now that he had taken on all the house responsibilities. Burt had only been home from the hospital for a week, and Kurt would be damned if Burt exerted more energy than was necessary to get him from his room to the couch or bathroom. The food itinerary was fastened to the refrigerator handle, with corresponding pre-made meals organized in tupperware containers inside. Burt thought Kurt was being excessive (and obsessive), and told him as much, but when Burt realized every dose of his medication had its own alarm on his phone, he realized the battle was already lost.  
  
"Remind me, who’s the parent here?" Burt asked, raising his brow at Kurt over the back of the couch.  
  
"The one who’s on strict doctor’s orders to take it easy because he had a heart attack a week ago," Kurt countered, meeting his father’s eye with his hands resting in the bowl of meat.

Burt yawned again.  
  
"Dad—"  
  
"All right, all right." Burt got up from the couch and stretched, which produced yet another yawn, and made his way towards the stairs. "Don’t stay up too long. I’m not the only one who needs a break."  
  
"I’m fine, Dad."  
  
"Yeah, well, I’m fine, too. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
Kurt waited until all was quiet on the upstairs front before letting his whole body slump in a massive exhale. He was exhausted, if he was being honest, so for the sake of powering through it, he chose to lie. His dad’s condition, alone, was not enough to wear him out, but on top of Glee club and Cheerio practice, Kurt was tapped. He allowed himself ten slowly-counted seconds to breathe, then straightened his back and pulled his hands out of the meat bowl. His hands came up covered in blood, minced garlic, and Worcestershire sauce, and he gently shook off the excess in the sink before washing his hands thoroughly.  
  
He spent longer than necessary on this act, letting the water run between his fingers and over his forearms before re-soaping and doing it all over again. He just needed space from the house, space to think… Hmm. It had been a long time since he’d snuck out of the house for some mental peace and quiet, but tonight was as good a night as any and his dad was already asleep.  
  
Kurt dried his hands on the towel next to the sink, placed the bowl of meat in the refrigerator, and grabbed the grocery list from its place on the front of the refrigerator door.  
  
*****  
  
The parking lot of Ray’s Supermarket was near-empty at 1 AM, save for a few employees’ cars and an immaculate black Navigator that was parked far away from the grocery’s entrance. Kurt walked slowly back to his truck, bags and keys in hand, trying to soak in the calm and the quiet. Friday nights in Lima rarely elevated past a dull roar, or maybe the chirps of a few crickets, and tonight was no exception. All Kurt could hear was the rustling of trees and the sound of his own boots against the pavement.  
  
When Kurt reached the truck and opened the front passenger side to place his bags on the seat, his keys slipped from his grasp and fell towards the asphalt. He turned and bent to grab them, but they were already held in a gentle grip by a hand with glossy black fingernails. Kurt jumped back with a squeak, putting himself on the edge of the passenger’s seat by accident.  
  
“Hello,” the woman said. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.” She wore a sweet, warm expression on her full lips and large, heavy-lidded brown eyes, so Kurt believed her.  
  
“It’s okay,” he said, though his heart was threatening to escape from his chest. It would have startled anyone, but Kurt had become increasingly intolerant of people popping up behind him, as of late. “I must not have been paying attention. I didn’t even hear you walk up.” Kurt finished with a jittery little laugh and shrugged.  
  
“Preoccupied?”  
  
“You could say that. So, did you need help with your bags?” Kurt looked behind her for a shopping cart.  
  
She shook her head. “No.”  
  
The woman offered no further information. She just stood calmly, looking him up and down for a few seconds before her eyes returned to his and stayed there.   
  
Kurt leaned back a little. “Is… is your car working okay? I’m pretty good with cars, I can take a look.”  
  
“That won’t be necessary, Kurt.”  
  
The hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck stood up. Maybe if he refrained from stating the obvious problem with what she’d just said, then he could just bid this strange woman adieu, get in his car, and drive away.  
  
The woman turned Kurt’s keys over and over in her hand.  
  
“I don’t have any cash to give you, if that’s what you want.” Kurt had pressed himself back against the car. The woman was taller than average, about as tall as he was, and since the open passenger side door had him blocked on his left, she had him completely cornered.  
  
“Do you really think I’m here for that, sweetheart?”  
  
“I don’t know what the hell you’re here for, lady, so would you please stop patronizing me and being creepy so I can go home?”  
  
The woman laughed. “Hmm. They may be draining you, but your light isn’t out yet.”  
  
Her eyes changed; the pupils overtook the whites, turning them completely black. She stepped forward, into Kurt’s space now, and reached towards him. Kurt’s head thunked against the car as he jerked out of her reach, but the woman got a hold of him anyway. She held his jaw in her hand so tightly that he couldn’t open his mouth to let out the scream that had burst from his throat. Her hand was downright frigid, and it sent a chill down Kurt’s spine. He breathed hard through his nose, crying now that he knew his escape had gotten away from him.   
  
The woman smiled — kindly, it seemed, despite the circumstances, though if it was meant to reassure, the sharp fangs that had sprouted in her mouth destroyed that effect. The sound of Kurt’s screams fighting to get out of him grew louder and harsher behind his gritted teeth, but the woman made no move to try and shush him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, get it out of your system. No one can hear you, that’s all right.”  
  
Tears and snot ran down Kurt’s face and onto the woman’s fingers. Her grip didn’t falter. She looked at him with too much pity to be sympathetic, as though she was aware of the fear that had Kurt shaking and sobbing against his own car but hadn’t felt such an emotion in quite some time.   
  
“P-please,” Kurt said, pushing the word out as best he could.  
  
“What is it, dear?” She adjusted her hand a bit lower, around the top of his throat, to allow him to speak.  
  
“Please don’t kill me, don’t do this to my dad. He’s sick, and he doesn’t have—”  
  
The woman moved her face closer to Kurt’s, and he went silent. “He does. Yes, I see her now… the one who is not your mother. Your father is not alone, Kurt. And, anyway, I am not going to kill you.”  
  
Kurt closed his eyes and tried not to cry even harder. He didn’t know what she was, but if this was how she treated him with no intention to end his horror, he couldn’t imagine what she wanted.  
  
“I watched you in the store,” she continued. “You have so much inside of you. Such strength and power that you don’t express. You are… more than these small people, and yet you let them chip away at you.”  
  
“My father is not small,” Kurt spat.  
  
The woman clicked her tongue and said, “No, no, no. I don’t mean him. I mean those unfortunate boys, around you. Your peers, for want of a better word.” She narrowed her black eyes, peering even deeper into him. “I mean the one who has taken a particular liking to you. He takes so much from you every day. He isolates you, magnifies your loneliness. But that stops after tonight. I’m going to help you.” She turned Kurt’s head so that more of his neck was exposed, and at that moment, Kurt realized what she was.  
  
“No! I don’t need your help, please—”  
  
She held his jaw shut again and pressed him harder against the car. “Moving around will only make this more difficult for both of us, Kurt. Besides, this isn’t just for you. I am so thirsty.”   
  
She lunged, and all Kurt knew was searing pain before the world spun around them and went black.  
  
*****  
  
Kurt opened his eyes. He was sitting in the front seat of his Navigator with his keys in the ignition and a small collection of full grocery bags on the passenger seat beside him. That was weird, he thought, since the last thing he remembered was walking into the grocery store.  
  
He glanced at the clock. 3:07.  
  
“Oh my god,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. He must have been more exhausted than he thought. At least the car had been parked when he fell asleep. He stretched, and rubbed at the twinge in his neck — probably had his head at a bad angle during his accidental nap — then took a deep breath and started the car.  
  
Everything seemed slower and hazier than usual, but Kurt attributed that to how much harder it always was to wake from a long and ill-timed nap. As soon as he got home, he was going to put the groceries away and get as much sleep as he could before Carole and Finn came over for breakfast in the morning.  
  
Before he knew it, he was pulling into his driveway and parking the car next to his dad’s pick-up truck in the garage. God, he was so tired, and vaguely thirsty; only a few more minutes and he’d be able to crash for the night.  
  
In the kitchen, per his usual grocery routine, he stored all the frozen foods first. When he opened the fridge, though, an overwhelming and spicy scent washed over him. He dropped the bag he’d been holding; skim milk and egg yolks exploded on the floor and spread all over the tile around his boots, but Kurt paid them no mind. He started shoving food aside, tossing things out of the fridge, until his nose finally focused on the source of that amazing smell.  
  
On the second shelf sat the tupperware bowl of raw sirloin. Kurt ripped the top off and almost moaned when the scent got even stronger. With a throaty growl that he didn’t even realize he’d made, Kurt clutched the bowl close to his chest and shoved a handful of the raw, bloody meat into his mouth. The meat tasted funny, too much garlic maybe, but the red juice left on his hand? That was magnificent. Kurt sucked his fingers dry, then plunged his hand back into the bowl for more. He stood in front of the open fridge for a while, licking blood off his fingers.  
  
Slowly, as he woke up a little more and the world came into sharper focus, Kurt became aware that the delicious scent was coming from another direction, too. This new scent was even sweeter, and more pure in a way that Kurt couldn’t articulate, and he abandoned the bowl in the kitchen in order to follow it.   
  
The scent got stronger and stronger the farther he went up the stairs, and Kurt inhaled as deeply as he could. Oh, it smelled so delicious that it made him thirstier and thirstier as he climbed. By the time Kurt reached the landing, he was ravenous for it. He was breathing hard and ragged when he opened the door that was hiding the source of the beautiful scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply again, following his feet.   
  
Yes, it was within arms’ reach and he was going to devour it, he could taste it already… but, wait. Something was off. Up close, the scent turned slightly bitter. It smelled the way an aspirin pill had tasted when he’d accidentally taken too long to swallow it.   
  
Kurt opened his eyes to see what was wrong with the food and found himself leaning over his dad’s sleeping form on the bed.  
  
The air punched out of Kurt’s lungs. He clamped both hands over his mouth and ran to his room with just enough presence of mind to shut the door quietly instead of slamming it. He dropped to his knees on the floor and pressed his face to the plush white carpet, shaking. What the hell had just happened? What the hell was _about_ to happen?   
  
_I’m so thirsty… I’m so hungry… I want more… more… I know where it is…_  
  
“Nooo, oh my god, oh my god, what is this, what’s wrong with me?”  
  
 _Nothing’s wrong with me_ , argued the voice in his head, and it sounded no different from his own, except a little angrier. _NOTHING is wrong with me… Feed me… FEED ME!_  
  
Kurt screamed into his hands. He could smell the blood from the raw meat (which he now knew did not smell as good as human blood), and he held his hands away from his face. He felt a gnawing sensation in his stomach so insistent that it threatened to drown his rational thought. It was proving more and more difficult to keep the line between “food” and “father” intact in his head, but for one moment of horrifying clarity, it occurred to Kurt that the medicine in Burt’s blood had actually done its job, and saved his life.  
  
 _The food is out there. Why am I in here? WHY?_  
  
Kurt crawled towards the door.  
  
 _Yes… It can’t escape from me, I’m going to get it…_  
  
Kurt dug his palms into the carpet. With every ounce of his waning self-control, he reached up, locked the door, and pushed himself to his feet. He noticed, then, that the room seemed much brighter than it should have, for all the lights being off at 4 AM. When he ran his tongue around in his mouth, he felt two sharp teeth sticking out from the rest. Kurt turned slowly towards the mirror that sat above his dresser, afraid of what he might see.  
  
Oh. He hadn’t morphed into some completely foreign creature. Kurt could still see himself — pale skin, his mom’s nose, a slender frame — but his blue-green irises and the whites of his eyes had disappeared. His eyes were black, and he had blood smeared around his mouth.   
  
That was the moment his grocery run returned to his memory.  
  
A warm voice, black eyes, fangs, an iron grip on his face — pain and paralyzing terror — his own muted screaming and crying, and his throat on display as he put the pieces together…  
  
Vampires were real. And Kurt Hummel was one of them.  
  
*****  
  
Kurt lay curled in a tight ball on his bed some time later. The sky was lightening outside his window and the clock on his bookshelf read 5:56 AM. His head was pounding, and that awful version of his own voice in his head had devolved into one single, looping idea that Kurt refused to entertain.  
  
 _Feed… feed… feed… feed…_  
  
If he could just stay there, locked in his room, away from his dad and every other nearby person, maybe he could starve himself and it would all be over. Would he waste away? Dry up and disintegrate? Pass out so it was just like falling asleep? How long could vampires go without feeding, anyway? He felt terrible already, but was he far enough gone? Could he count on saving his dad from his new and monstrous impulses by the end of the day?  
  
Tears sprang to Kurt’s eyes. He didn’t want to go like this. He didn’t want to leave his dad. The woman had been right, Burt wouldn’t be alone, but they had just started rebuilding again. Kurt had never been closer with him, and now he was supposed to have a brother, and if all went according to plan, a stepmother… who would be there in a matter of hours.  
  
Kurt let out a frustrated scream. If he could barely deal with the scent of one nearby human, what the hell was he going to do about three? He did his best not to picture the scene, despite the traitorous rush of excitement swelling in his chest. He held his bent legs even tighter, like he was trying to stop them propelling off the bed against his will. His fangs pricked his bottom lip and he yelped in surprise; he felt the tiniest bit of blood on his tongue when he licked over it, but his own blood wasn’t going to do anything to quench his thirst.  
  
There was a gentle knock on the door. “Kurt? You still up?”  
  
 _IT’S HERE! GET IT, NOW!_  
  
“No, no, no, no, no…” Kurt held onto the bed for dear life and buried his face in the pillows.  
  
“Sure sounds like you’re up,” Burt replied. He jiggled the door handle.  
  
There was no point in pretending to be asleep. “Dad, please go away!” Kurt’s voice was high and rough, caught between panicked wail and desperate craving.   
  
“Kurt, what’s wrong? Open the door?”  
  
“I’ll be fine, it’s — unggh, god — GO AWAY!”  
  
“You think I don’t have a key to this door? I’m coming in, I’ll be back in a second.”  
  
 _YES!_  
  
“NO!” Kurt rolled off the bed and landed on the side farthest from the door just as the lock clicked and the door burst open.  
  
“Kurt?” Burt walked around the bed, cell phone in hand, and found Kurt doubled over on the floor. He bent over and put a hand on Kurt’s trembling back. “What’s wrong, buddy? Are you sick?”  
  
“ _LEAVE!_ ” Kurt snarled, whipping his head up to face him.  
  
Burt yelled and stumbled backwards at the sight. His son had sharp teeth in his open, panting mouth, and the last time he’d seen eyes like that, he’d been channel surfing past some weirdo show about demons. But this was real. Something had taken his kid, though he couldn’t figure out when or how it had happened.  
  
Kurt watched Burt’s wide, confused eyes, and moaned in apparent pain. “Dad, either I’m going to give you another heart attack or I’m going to suck all that nasty, medicated blood out of you, but either way, I will kill you if you don’t get away from me. Please leave, please, please…”  
  
There was no time to question it. Kurt had fangs, a thirst for blood, and dried… something, around his mouth. Burt didn’t consider himself a genius, but he knew two plus two equaled four.   
  
He lifted his cell phone and selected a number.  
  
“911?” Kurt whimpered.  
  
“Nah, we can do better than that. It’ll be okay, Kurt. Just wait here, it’ll all be okay.”  
  
*****  
  
The sun had fully risen half an hour later when Kurt heard the cluster of footsteps rumbling up the stairs. He’d stayed in the same spot on the floor after Burt locked him into his room, and didn’t try to move away when the sunlight hit him. The brighter the light, the worse his body ached, like that time April Rhodes had gotten him drunk, but Kurt only felt relief at how it had weakened him. He was still starving, but weary now, and any attempts to move or get up had only made him dizzy.  
  
The bedroom door opened. Kurt smelled his father first, then someone… well, fresh was the description that came to mind. Newer, younger blood.  
  
“Finn?”  
  
“Hey, Kurt.” Finn walked into the room behind Burt and peered shyly around the bed. He looked nervous, but not as scared as Kurt thought he would. “Wow, bro. Look at you. You look badass.”  
  
Kurt would have smiled, but his insides felt like they were twisting themselves into balloon animals.  
  
A sweet, flowery smell came next. Carole. Her eyes shot up when she first saw Kurt, but she quickly settled into a calm demeanor and started rolling up the sleeves of her sweatshirt.  
  
Burt reached for the curtain pull by the window. “Here, vampires don’t like sunlight, right? I’ll close this for you.”  
  
“No! Safer,” Kurt said, then looked up at Carole and Finn. “Sorry…”  
  
“Don’t apologize, Kurt, it’s okay. Do you know what you need?” Carole asked, though from the way she was massaging her wrist and the inside of her elbow, Kurt could tell she already knew.  
  
“Blood.”  
  
Carole nodded. “We’re going to help you, sweetheart. Go ahead, guys.”  
  
Burt knelt behind Kurt and pulled him up so that Kurt’s back was resting against his chest, then wrapped his arms around him. Finn sat on Kurt’s left and took both of his hands, and Carole sat on Kurt’s right.  
  
“Can’t,” Kurt whined.  
  
Burt put his chin on the top of Kurt’s head and squeezed him tight. “Yes you can, Kurt. If this is what you are now, then this is what you are now. We’ll figure the long-term out later, but we’re not gonna let you starve, okay?”  
  
Carole held her arm out, but Kurt turned his head away.   
  
“It’s all right, Kurt. I take blood samples at the hospital all the time, I know what I’m doing. You’re just taking it a little differently.”  
  
“He’s also drinking it, Mom…”  
  
“Finn, shush. Kurt, sweetheart? Will you let me help you?”  
  
It took a moment, but Kurt finally looked at her and nodded.  
  
“See this vein? You’re going to puncture the skin, right here, then draw the blood out slowly. Here we go.” Carole took a deep breath and put her arm to Kurt’s mouth.  
  
Kurt glanced up, giving Carole one last chance to pull away, but she smiled reassuringly and waited. He put his mouth over the spot she’d indicated, then bit down. Carole winced, but held her arm steady, and blood gushed into Kurt’s mouth.  
  
He immediately felt better, and he sucked harder over the spot to get at more of it.  
  
“Aaah! Slowly, Kurt,” Carole reminded him.  
  
Finn squeezed his hands to get his attention, and Kurt slowed as much as he could bear. He felt his strength returning, and then some, and his head stopped spinning. The awful feeling in his stomach subsided, and so did the thirst that had held him hostage for hours. The sun began to hurt less and less, until he could barely feel it at all. As Kurt drank his fill, the instinct to attack everyone faded.  
  
After a few more moments, Carole put a gentle hand under Kurt’s chin and pushed a little. With one final drag on her arm, Kurt let go and slumped into his dad’s arms, sated.  
  
“Better?” Burt asked. Carole held her arm close to her chest and cleaned around the bloody area with an antiseptic wipe. Finn released Kurt’s hands.  
  
Kurt pushed himself back up, then looked around at all of them and tried not to be embarrassed. “Thank you,” he said, and put a hand on Carole’s arm. “There aren’t sufficient words. I thought I was going to do something horrible.”  
  
“Well, we’re supposed to be a family, right?” Finn shrugged and threw him a lopsided grin, and Kurt saw Carole exchange a look with his father.   
  
Kurt snorted. “Nothing says family bonding like a group blood ritual… You’re all so much calmer about this than I was.”  
  
“If I can believe in things I can’t see, why wouldn’t I believe what’s right in front of me?” said Finn. “And hey, your face looks normal again!”  
  
A run of his tongue over his teeth verified that, yes, the fangs had retracted. Kurt assumed Finn meant his eyes as well. He turned and hugged his dad, and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Dad. I really thought I would—”  
  
“Don’t, Kurt. I’m still here, and I’m fine. We got it under control, all right?”  
  
Kurt sighed and nodded, and he felt Carole running a soothing hand over his back. Finn chipped in too, with an unfortunate ruffling of Kurt’s hair. The four of them sat there on Kurt’s bedroom floor for a while, quiet until —  
  
“So, can we go get breakfast now? I mean, Kurt got a head start on that, but —”  
  
“Oh, god damn it.”  
  
—A hearty laugh, that was Burt—  
  
“Finn, honey, just… go start the car.”


End file.
